


Good ideas don’t last my darling.

by rayfelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I don't fucking know how to tag this with, M/M, i just suck at titles, the title has nothing to do with the plot fyi, they both have shitty lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayfelle/pseuds/rayfelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean just asked this guy for a smoke, that was all that he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good ideas don’t last my darling.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really have no idea what is going on in this fic. And there is no plot what so ever. Maybe I'll write a second part if this is well liked, depends.  
> And then I butcher up the English language in this as well, so sorry about that. It's kind of not my mother tongue.

They meet on a rather shitty day when the weather couldn’t seem to decide on snow or rain. Eren was sitting on one of the concrete foundations of an unfinished and forgotten building, smoking his fifth cigarette in the last two hours and glaring up at the grey sky. He could have been sitting in the crappy apartment his mom had gotten for the two of them and trying to block out the neighbors drunken singing, but Carla had a client over and he had to get out. Whether he wanted to or not.

Sometimes he wondered why his mother had decided on keeping him when it seemed like such a pain for her to have him around right now. But no matter how much he asked, Carla just told him to shut it and get out of the apartment for food or cigarettes. The beauty of a teenage life.

Just as his brows furrowed and Eren was starting to think of a plan of action concerning his place of stay for the night someone cursed not that far from where he was sitting, making the teen jump slightly. With the cigarette smoke floating around him Eren turned his head and blinked once, twice. “What?”

“Got any smokes left?” his new companion, seemingly the same age as him and with a shit taste in hairstyles, scowled and kicked the same concrete foundation that Eren was sitting on.

Well, that wasn't any way to ask for something, but Eren was in no mood for fighting, strangely, so just patted his jacket pockets for the pack he knew he had and blew out grey clouds of smoke. “Name?” he decided to ask just for shits and giggles, since pretty much everyone in this particular part of town cared less for names and more about age and how much you asked for it.

The guy gave him a long stare, as if it had been the first time in years someone had asked something that _stupid_ to him, but then shrugged, accepted the cigarette and pulled out a fancy looking lighter from the back pocket of his pants. “Jean.”

That was the start of a beautifully horrible friendship.

…

“You stink.” Jean used his foot to push Eren away from him and his apartment entrance. From what Eren could see there was a pair of woman’s shoes left in front of the door and that meant his new asshole of a friend wasn't alone. Wonderful. “Why do you stink?”

“Could have something to do with the fact that I don’t have water at my place, dunno. Now shut your face and let me use your shower.” Eren pushed the foot away, not before pulling off the sock from said foot and throwing it at Jean’s face. “I don’t care if you fuck your chick or whatever the fuck you do with girls, but I just want to feel clean again.” And that wasn't a lie. Jean may have a nice ass but he so wasn't worth it.

Jeans makes a face and it’s obvious he’s annoyed and pissed and just simply done with Eren’s shit. They’ve known each other for roughly two fucking weeks and the little shit is already ruining his life. Still, he sighs and steps back, gesturing to the messy apartment with one hand, “Shower and get the fuck out.”

So Eren does, ignoring the moans and everything else that he hears every time the water flow stops so he can soap up and wash himself. He doesn’t mind since it’s almost the same thing that usually happens at his place. At least Jean’s clothes are drying on the heater that’s next to the shower, so Eren can steal and wear those while he’s at it.

The jeans are too long, but the right kind of tight that hugged his ass and legs just right, the shirt he wears over his own sleeveless one is big and just slightly baggy. Jean will probably curse him out later and ask for a compensation of sorts, but Eren thinks of it as just another lame excuse to meet up.

…

Eren’s crashing on Jean’s couch two days later, wearing the guy’s shirt and pretending to be asleep. His ribs hurt and there is dried blood on his jeans, but it wasn’t his this time. Maybe the only reason why he wasn’t bleeding all over the place right now, except for the cut on his lip and bruises on his knuckles, is because Jean had noticed him while out buying groceries and hit the guy with a steel pipe across the head.

Somehow he feels more like shit than usual. Because he’s pulled Jean into his crap.

“Stop moping and show me your ribs.” Jean kicks him in the leg and places a can of cold beer on the small table in front of the couch. He’s surprisingly understanding and caring and something about this seems strange to Eren. But he doesn’t question it.

With a sigh Eren sits up, whines quietly because it hurts to move and lifts the baggy shirt high enough to be able to see the slowly coloring skin stretched across his ribs. And now Jean can also see just how much he gets to eat on daily basis. What little money Eren gets from his mother or pickpockets out of drunken men goes for smokes and clothes mostly, since food was secondary.

They don’t talk for a while because Jean is poking around to check for broken bones and Eren tries to hold in the sounds he really, _really_ wants to make, but in the end the guy sighs and stands up properly. “Nothing broken, lucky asshole. And you will wash that shirt ‘cause it was my favorite one and now it stinks of you.” He throws a beer to Eren and sits next to him on the couch.

It’s quiet and only the ticks of a clock seem to vibrate in the air. Eren pokes his can once, twice and then furrows his brows and asks quietly, as if afraid to ruin something, “Why did you help me?”

Jean’s fingers slide in Eren’s untamed hair before the teen replies, beer can half way up to his lips, “I wonder.” There was more it seemed but Eren doesn’t bother to ask further. Those simple words were enough for now and the fingers in his hair were rather pleasant.

Eren falls asleep with his head on Jean’s shoulder and without even opening the can. He ends up having the best sleep in weeks, even if his back and neck hurt once he was awake.

…

Jean follows Eren home one day, offhandedly saying something about just wanting to see where the other lived. Eren doesn’t really mind. He just hopes that mom is alone in there right now and the laundry has been done for once. But those were just empty hopes, nothing more.

There’s a cigarette between Jean’s lips and he wears those huge sunglasses that make him look less straight than he claims to be. “This is a shitty place to live. And that means a lot, since we all live in the most dangerous part of the town.” He comments and runs his hand over the stupid undercut he had going on.

“I know already, assface.” Eren steals his cigarette for that. He inhales the smoke, closes his eyes for a moment and then watches the world spin for just a short while. “I don’t want to go back there. But I have to, since it’s my home. Sort of. I don’t know.” He keeps the cigarette.

They watch some guy wobbling by in silence, the small rocks under their feet scraping against the concrete as they walk. It’s strange how oddly comfortable they seem to be together, especially when they fight about the stupidest shit and only know each other for a grand of four weeks, maybe. Perhaps this is one of those ‘fated meetings’ that all those chick flicks like to talk about so much.

Jean finally opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind when they see Carla, standing at the bottom of the stairs of Eren’s apartment building, next to a suitcase and a duffle bag. She taps her foot impatiently and checks her watch before finally noticing the two.

“You’re late.” Her voice is a little hoarse, from drinking Eren would say. “These are all your things, I left some money in the bag. The apartment is sold and I’m going to live with a guy. You’re old enough and I’m tired. Don’t look for me.” She hesitates for a second before turning her tired eyes at Jean. “You are?”

“Friend.” Eren mumbles, lost and confused. His big eyes, usually so alive and vivid have gone just a bit dim and the cigarette burns forgotten on the concrete next to his sneakers. No home, no place to get back to and just two bags full of his things – that was his life now.

Jean looks from mother to son before crossing his arms across his chest and clicking his tongue. “Boyfriend.” He smirks at the look he gets from Eren before bending down to pick up the duffle bag. It’s surprisingly light. “Pleased to meet you and I hope we never see each other again. Jāger move your ass, I want to make it back in time for my movie.”

…

Later that same day Eren sits dazed on Jean’s couch, staring at the tv but seeing nothing. Next to him Jean is laughing his head off about some stupid joke that has just been told, the potato chips flying all over the place as he bends forward to try and breathe. It almost seems like he’s forgotten what he had told to Eren’s mom just a while back.

“Oi, Jean.” Eren finally wakes up and looks at the other, blinking slowly. His fingers twitch from the confusion and need for nicotine in his lungs, but Eren needs to get this thing done. He needs to understand. “Did you mean it… what you said?”

“No, I just wanted to mess with that woman. Of course I meant it, dweeb.” Jean reaches out to slide his finger along the glass surface of the table before him, shaking the chips off of his body. “I don’t know, actually. I mean, if you want to? But well, yeah. Just stay here for now.” He doesn’t look at Eren, just stares at the comedy going playing on the tv.

Eren moves though. Words probably didn’t work right now, not for him. And they would fail either way, since there was just too much on his mind, too many things swirling in his head and too many questions blooming on his tongue. So he allowed his body to move, to do the talking for him, to _show_ what he wanted to say.

It was an awkward angle but Eren didn’t care about that. He just wanted to feel Jean’s warmth against himself, wanted to taste Jean and push his own body against the other’s. And so he did, forcefully and without thinking, hands holding onto Jean’s arms with the desperation of wanting to be kissed back so badly.

And Jean did. He quickly took control, his fingers once again twisting into Eren’s hair as he pulled the other closer. They kissed just like they fought – putting their all out on the display and trying to take the upper hand, with licks and moans that seemed to disappear into their mouths.

Once Eren pulls back, flushed and slightly breathless he allows a laugh to rolls past his slightly abused lips. “ _God_ , you’ll make a shitty boyfriend. But at least I’ll have a place to live.” He reaches out to place his fingertips against Jean’s collarbone, eyes taking in the way the teen twitches because of the sudden contact.

“As if you’re one to talk.” Jean laughs as well, fingers still playing with Eren’s hair. 


End file.
